


Trying (and Failing) at Cliché

by remyllian_fire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2609780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remyllian_fire/pseuds/remyllian_fire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles accidentally proposes at an inappropriate moment and flees to avoid facing the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying (and Failing) at Cliché

**Author's Note:**

> There I was, diligently trying to make progress on another story I'm writing, when I saw [this prompt](http://maxkirin.tumblr.com/post/101727642142/daily-character-question-the-big-question) that got me thinking about proposals. This is where I ended up. It's definitely crack, but I needed a break from what I was working on, and this was fun to write.

"I can't believe you thought this would be a good idea."

"I wasn't thinking! It wasn't intentional. Do you really think I woke up today wanting this to happen this way?"

Really, the day had begun in such a normal manner that Stiles should have been suspicious.

"Of course you weren't thinking. I'm very aware of that. I'm guessing Derek knows that, too."

Stiles lets his head fall into his hands at that. He hears Scott drop into the seat next to him, but doesn't look up, instead choosing to keep his eyes squeezed shut. 

"It's okay, man. It could have been weirder. Probably." Scott pats Stiles' shoulder gently, like he's trying to give him space to freak out, but still comfort Stiles. It's a nice gesture, Stiles thinks, to be so careful in a way they rarely need to be when together.

"How? How could it have been weirder?" Stiles demands, voice muffled by hands pressed over his mouth.

"Well." Scott's hesitance says more than enough. "At least you didn't propose to him on the day the old Hale house was burned to the ground. That would have been really shitty. But today... that was just stupid."

Opening his eyes to peer through the spaces between his fingers like a child peeking at a scary movie, Stiles glares at Scott until he changes tactics.

"So what did he say?"

That's almost worse. There are no safe spaces in this conversation. Stiles groans, dragging his hands over his face, hard enough that his fingers leave red lines in their wake. Scott, bless him, waits patiently for a response.

"He didn't say anything, because Chris fucking Argent showed up. Because there was a dead werewolf to talk about. As usual." Stiles briefly covers his mouth with a hand, wishing that he could skip admitting the next part and somehow avoid the truth of it. "And I ran? Away from them. I had to, you know, find you. Make sure you were okay?"

It's a weak, weak excuse, but he still dares to hope for a sympathetic response. Scott stares for a long moment before he starts laughing. Stiles drops his head to the table in Scott's kitchen, solidly banging against it several times before Scott forcibly stops him, grabbing him by the elbow and holding him upright, away from the table's hard surface.

"So what?" Scott says, his voice firm and suddenly lacking any trace of laughter. "So what if you thought post-kill was a good time to ask him to make a man out of you? He loves you. He might not even mind."

Scott's voice wavers with might be either amusement or doubt, but Stiles can't concentrate to figure it out. He groans again, still in disbelief of his own actions.

"No, I'm going to pretend this never happened. Maybe he'll forget."

"I... really doubt he's going to forget your proposal."

"Fuck, just humor me, Scott. Please? Let me pretend for a little while?"

"Do you want to take it back?"

Stiles startles at the sound of Derek's voice. He jumps out of his chair in a heartbeat, spinning around to look at Derek, who doesn't look smug in the way he normally does when he catches Stiles off-guard.

"I'll just..." Scott begins, gesturing vaguely towards the door behind him as he backs out of it. "Leave you to it... but... do I need to remind you to not have sex in my kitchen?" He throws his hands in the air when he receives two vicious glares. "Fine! I'll go! I can't believe I'm trusting you guys with this room alone again..."

And then they're alone, but Stiles doesn't want to face this quite yet. Not if pretending it never happened is a possibility.

"Do we have to?"

"Do you want to take it back?" Derek repeats, unmoving.

"Oh my God, Derek, you were there. You know it was a fucking mess."

Something of a smile tugs at the corners of Derek's mouth, and it's annoying as hell.

"You don't get to smile about it, okay, asshole?" Stiles steps towards Derek, shaking an accusatory finger at him. "You fucking killed someone tonight, remember?"

"And you asked me to marry you right after I did. So why the hell did you run off?"

"Because it was stupid!" Stiles blurts out. "It shouldn't have happened!"

Derek's face hardens instantly, and his posture stiffens. Still, he won't look away from Stiles, who isn't deterred, but instead he closes the gap between them.

"I mean I shouldn't have. You know I shouldn't have."

"Okay." His face is still closed off, and Stiles, for once, can't read the expression there. But he knows what even that emotionless look means on Derek's face.

"Okay? Okay what? Don't shut down on me, Derek. Did you track me down just to reconfirm that I made an idiot of myself?" He knows that Derek probably hates that he's come close enough to touch, but he doesn't want to back away. Doesn't want to imagine it being some strange werewolf who lived instead of Derek, no matter how impossible that idea is to him.

"I mean that I understand now. I get that you were being dramatic. As always. I should have known you didn't mean it."

"Derek, what the fuck are you talking about? I couldn't let that be it, okay? That couldn't be the moment. But of course I meant it."

Derek gives him a blank look that Stiles doesn't give a chance to transition into something more comprehending, but he can't help himself. He grabs Derek by the shoulders and shakes him. "I want to marry you, you asshole." And then he kisses Derek firmly before pulling out of his space again.

"So why all the dramatics?"

"Because how the hell am I supposed to tell this story to my dad? 'Hey, I asked Derek to marry me while his hands were dripping in the blood of his enemies'? It was supposed to be nice. We were supposed to get a wombat that we would raise as our own. I wanted to watch asteroids fall out of the sky, or kiss you on the top of a mountain or... something. Anything. I just didn't want it to be when you were fucking bleeding."

"Wombats?" Derek lifts his eyebrows, both curious and slightly judgmental.

"Okay, no wombats, but I wanted it to be romantic! Or at least as close to sweet and stereotypically romantic as we could get."

"I killed someone who was trying to kill you. That was for you. How much more romantic do you expect me to be?"

Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but finds himself nodding slightly.

"Okay, fine, so that's the extent of your ability. I guess it's as close as we'll ever get. But I wanted to try."

Derek grabs Stiles roughly, pulling him into a fierce hug.  Derek doesn't let go to talk, instead speaking directly into Stiles' ear.

"Trying too hard around here tends to result in deadly situations. So maybe try less?"

"Maybe. If you actually give me an answer."

When Derek smiles at him, there's only mischief. Brilliant, happy mischief. And then he's pushing gently past Stiles so he can walk away. Stiles can't help the nervous flutter that suddenly hits him.

"What... what are you doing?"

That makes Derek look over his shoulder as he keeps walking towards the back door.

"Leaving," he says simply before turning his face away again. "That's how we express feelings in this relationship, right?"

Stiles shakes his head at him, smiling again as he sprints towards him, wrapping himself around Derek.

"Don't be a smartass," Stiles whispers in his ear. "That's my job."

Derek twists in Stiles' grip until they're face to face, Stiles' arms around Derek's waist, and Derek's hands cupping Stiles' face.

"Yeah, it is your job," he says quietly, the admiration clear in his voice. "And I'm still going to  _marry_  you despite it."

" _Because_  of it," Stiles corrects him, grinning wide. "And yeah, you are marrying me."

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for any errors. I probably should have made a real effort to edit this.
> 
> Also, I'm back on [tumblr](http://midnightfistfights.tumblr.com) again.


End file.
